One step at a time …

It’s been a while since my last blog, there are a few reasons for this, some of which are commonly known as ‘I cant be arsed reasons’ and ‘there are never enough fecking hours in the day’ reasons; but the other more sincere reason was, that I was finding wearing my heart on my sleeve to reveal my deepest pain to the world of cyberspace quite a surreal experience, although often a comforting experience, however the thought was somewhat daunting at times that I may be judged by people that I have never set eyes on.

So after my time away, where am I?

I’m still battling daily with my emotions, a constant argument in my head with the good the bad and the ugly.

The good, telling me I’m one of life’s survivors and I will not be defeated by grief, and the little friendly voice pushing me on to my next venture in the memory of my three little boys whom I miss so much my whole body aches, the good that always tries to see good, and use my losses to help others.

The bad, is the part of me, that when I listen to people moan and whinge about utter rubbish, when I have to fight the urge to stop my arm raising, my fist clenching and smacking the innocent party straight in between the eyes and shouting out loud…. ‘Now you got something to moan about, that’s not insignificant’ ….

Then there’s the Ugly, the part of me that I am embarrassed to reveal, the part that I am ashamed to admit, the part that’s jealous, that’s vindictive and quite frankly very angry and bitter. The good part occasionally dipping in to whisper “its ok to feel like this” but the bad taking over and stomping the arse out of all rationality of thinking…

But as much as I tell myself there are good days and bad days, nothing prepares me for when the emotion takes over; it creeps out of nowhere, like the monster you dreamt of as a child, like the how the darkness of night swamps the daylight sunshine in what seems like a millisecond come the winter months.

But as for my earlier question where I am right now …..

I am still living after still birth, but still wishing things were different and still wondering who the person is that looks back at me through the mirror! I feel like I am in a transitional point between the pain of grief and the pain of accepting grief….



Living In The Shadows Of The Old Me


Life changes people in all sorts of ways, so why is it hard to accept that grief can change people too. Grief has changed me, it’s changed my sprit. I find myself re-prioritising my life and I know that grief is a journey. The many who have travelled along its path will tell you that it is one that will change you forever. I have toyed back and forth with this and I decided to write it in black and white and tell people how 3 of my children dying has changed me.


Diminishing Eternal Optimism

I was the eternal optimist with a desire and expectation for a favorable outcome, always looking at the glass as being half full and wearing rose tinted glasses. I always believed the good in people, believed if you were a good person good things will happen. The harsh reality is that whilst it is important to be a good person this is not enough to protect you from bad things happening the unfortunate truth is bad things happen to good people.


Ability To Prioritize

I used to be so organized and now Im absent minded failing to prioritize correctly, my head full of unfinished business, unpaid bills, and an entirety of half written lists wrote in chaotic swirly childish handwriting with bold red ticks next to the items I have actually managed to complete.


New Vulnerability

I now feel completely vulnerable, like you’re protected from nothing, the wall I built around myself many years ago, has restored itself to the tower it once was in an attempt to try and preserve what’s left within these walls.



It used to take a lot to make me angry or annoyed and I find myself being irrational and volatile at the smallest of things.  I was raised with my father resembling what was to me this ‘iconic tower of strength’ that didn’t show emotion, didn’t show or express deep sadness, nor talk or reveal pain and hurt. I mirrored this attribute and saw it as a sign of weakness, and this was at my detriment. At 33 years old I find it hard to let go of this and sometimes it has been said, I am seen as the ice maiden, hard faced or cold. Rest assured for this is not the case inside my heart is breaking beyond my control and I will never be the same. Don’t take for granted you know the whole story, judging a book by its cover and read what you want between the lines.


Crying years of tears

I find my self crying more frequent than I ever have before and this emotion that overwhelms me just takes over and overspills at the most inconvenient of times. Often stunning me and the people surrounding me at the time, leaving us all at a loss of what to say or do as I weep uncontrollably, like after finishing a run of 5k with my fellow running friends, or as I leave for the morning school run and I’m asked casually “How are you today?”… Oh nooooo the floodgates are opening, my throat begins to sting as I battle the urge to cry, my eyes well up still fighting back the unfamiliar and unwanted emotion to cry…


I find my self annoyed at peoples insignificances where before I had patience, and I would take the time to listen and sympathize, offer advice and nurture. Now I find myself comparing there dilemmas and quandary’s to the deaths of my three little boys, the losses I have endured and the problems grief bring to your life and then I am instantly angered at myself for being so uncompassionate for their predicaments are only insignificant to me because I am hurting to my core, to them the crisis they are dealing with is just as real as mine, its real, it’s a time of difficulty that is relevant to them and requires compassion and patience and above all a friend. I worry I’m not the friend I once was and not that wife I used to be.


I question daily is counselling something I require or something I need?


I have decided that right now it’s not for me, not yet…maybe one day when I am ready to let go of the only thing I have… my grief. My grief is all I have left of what I have lost and I am not ready to let that go, expel all, reveal the ghosts and set them free.


So concluding this blog I say I feel like I am living in the shadow of the old me, the fun carefree, optimistic, patient, and understanding mid thirties gal seems a distant memory. So now I have to work out my new me, how is she different from me, and do I even like her?